Kings and Queens
by SleepingwithinWater
Summary: After being crowned the king of France (against his own will), Enjolras has a difficult time managing the trustful, yet rowdy, knights and handling a whole entire country. To top it all off, his most trusted knight is caught with his queen and he must make the hardest decision of his life. (fantasy AU)
1. A Prologue of Sorts

**A/N: What have I done? This.. I don't even know. I hope you like it..?! **

**As always, no idea how this will go or if I will continue it; it all depends on the reception this gets and if my juice for this story doesn't flow out too fast. So, if you like this first installment, make sure to drop a review! Also, this may be set up a little oddly, but I'm trying to figure out how I want to do this.. So sorry if it looks shitty. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the rightful owner, which would be Victor Hugo.**

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A White Queen – A Prologue of Sorts

They married on a Tuesday.

Robert Enjolras and Cosette Fauchelevent seemed an unlikely couple. His stern face, military stance, and the occasional upturn of his nose did not appear to match well with her obviously dainty figure, bright smile, and soft voice. But they loved each other, and it was beyond easy to figure that out.

Enjolras had been king of France for two years before he met Cosette and they ultimately fell in love. He had assumed the throne when there was a revolt against the former king and he just so happened to be the leader of one of the many groups involved. The people had been so enraptured by his words of freedom and equality that they quickly crowned him king. He was against it; thoroughly so.

He didn't want to be king. He wanted a free government. Hecouldn't – shouldn't – be the one to bring that about. But at the urging of his fellow men, his closest friends, he surrendered and allowed himself to be made king.

The first two years of his reign were hell. Maybe not for the people, but for himself.

He had no idea what he was doing; neither did the people _trying _to help him. They did the best that they could, just as he was trying to do, but they could only do so much for him. Eventually, he nearly gave up. He couldn't handle the stress of taking care of a whole _country_. All those people counting on him?! It kept him awake at night.

But then, _she _came along.

It was only for a short weekend visit. Her father, a man named Valjean, was coming to the castle to lend Enjolras whatever advice he could, and he was bringing along his daughter, Cosette. The two hit it off immediately, much to the surprise of Enjolras' knights (They were his original men from the revolt two years previously). It was a quiet love, but one not to be denied. She, in fact, proved to be more of a help than anyone else. She understood his struggles and offered wonderful advice.

He asked her to marry him three months later. She accepted readily.

The Tuesday of that very same week, before God and the country of France, they were married. Cosette wore white. She was radiant and he was breathless just looking at her. The hour that followed took too long for him. She faced the priest the whole time, but he could not tear his eyes away from her perfection. He'd never felt this way before...

He'd chosen right. She would be beyond perfect for both a just queen and a life-long love.

The ceremony ended and all was well. Though Enjolras still did not smile too frequently, and though he did not ease his stance, one could tell that he now exuded peace; he was content and without stress for the first time in his life. Cosette took to being a queen the moment she sat down in her throne. The people adored her, as did their king.

All was well, all was just.

.::.

Across the Way

In a school on a hill, twelve girls waited for their special prince. That was their sole meaning. Having been hand-picked by the Madame Murat herself at the tiny age of twelve, the twelve girls remaining were skilled in dance, literature, music, the arts, and mathematics. They knew how to walk like a princess, talk like princess, eat like a princess, even _sleep _like a princess.

All twelves girls would be dispersed at their own time to a new country, or a new home, depending on who was in great need of them. If a rich man was in dire need of a proper wife, so unlike his last which caused him great humiliation in the town commons, so be it; Madame Murat let him have his pick (For a hefty price, of course.). If a prince needed a princess, all the better. If a king needed a queen, superb.

Most of the girls were happy; most of the girls were thankful for what they had been given. Otherwise, they could have been in the gutters, scrounging for a tiny piece of bread each day. Most of the girls knew that, even if they were not picked by the age of twenty, they could make a way for themselves once released.

Each girl was now at age eighteen. Their days were numbered, and they knew it. Tensions were running high as one by one they were picked. What started off as twenty-four girls has been cut in half by the cruel fate of luck. So few men knew of the school; so few men wanted to make the trek up the mountain.

Two girls, both brunette, both eighteen, both with tan skin and tiny freckles splattered across their faces, were best friends. Florence De la Brousse, having been orphaned on the street and taken in by Madame Murat, was the shier of the two; she knew when to hold her tongue and when to lash out. On the other hand, Éponine Thenardier, a girl practically stolen from her parents (Though, it wasn't like they minded.), was loud, but trained. She, too, could hold her tongue; she just chose not to most of the time.

Both girls had a plan. They wanted out of the school, and they wanted out _now. _

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**Wow. Okay. In my head, that all went a lot differently. But once you get to writing, most of the time, it just takes over. Thus, that whole last part happened. **

**Let me know what you're thinking!**

**Love, Jess**


	2. Two Little Boys

**A/N: Thank you all very much for your reviews and follows and favorites! (As mentioned in a review, **_**I **_**forgot to mention that these first few chapters are just happening to satisfy my need for Enjolras/Cosette. I didn't think I'd ever be able to do a full story on them, so, thus, this is happening.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own diddly-shit. **

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Two Little Boys – _Three years later_

Three years of marriage for Enjolras and Cosette had provided two little boys for the King and Queen of France: twins, Jean-Claude, who took after his father, and Maximus, who, rather, favored his mother. Both boys, now two, were docile little princes, most expert at taking naps and playing with wooden chess pieces that only ended up in their mouths instead of on the board.

Cosette was a doting mother, and Enjolras a father, like many others, who tended to watch from afar. He would join in and become the rightful guide and mentor once the two were older.

One spring evening, after dinner was served and the two dogs let loose to roam the extensive grounds, the royal family took a stroll through the gardens. It was more of a waddle, actually. The boys were just getting accustomed to walking and Cosette insisted on holding their little hands and letting them walk with her help. It was painstakingly long and Enjolras was rather fed up with it all by the time they reached the end of the second hedge row, but it made her happy, and it made them happy. That was all that mattered, really.

Finally, Cosette agreed that it was taking too long for the boys to walk for the stroll to be the least bit enjoyable. She hoisted Jean-Claude up onto her hip and Enjolras swung Maximus onto his shoulders. _Now _they could walk as they should.

The parents spoke quietly back and forth – for the king's guards were nearby and it was hard for gossip not to be spread. Even the king and queen must be careful as to what they wanted being spread throughout the castle... As they neared the end of the gardens and were preparing to double back, Enjolras caught a flash of brown – two flashes of brown – dart through the trees on the edge of the castle line.

Enjolras, believing the people should have a right to speak to their king, had the castle walls demolished upon his second year of reigning. Many had advised him against it. What if they were to be attacked? What would they do then? Enjolras had always said that when they came to that bridge, they would figure out how to cross it. Instead of walls, now they had a grove of trees. It was easy to see onto the palace terrace and gardens, but rarely did anyone venture out onto the grass. They knew dire consequences would befall them. There were more than several guards posted throughout the trees and shrubbery.

He glanced at the trees once more, standing still this time. Maybe it had been a trick of the eye? Dead leaves falling? But he could have sworn he saw something that resembled skin..

Cosette stood behind him for a good few seconds, only thinking that he was lost in thought. She finally put her hand on his arm; he turned around and smiled. "It's nothing."

"Then come on, the boys are getting tired."

.::.

The Fate of the Girls

Éponine and Florence did not make it out of the school, much as they tried. After another year of trying to find a way to escape, they eventually gave up. They gave up on finding a way out and they gave up on ever being picked. When they finally were _allowed _to leave, between when they were eighteen and twenty, only two girls out of the final twelve had been picked during that time.

So, the two ventured out to find their own way. Very quickly did they realize that they had little to no social skills or the most important thing: money. Having been in Madame's school most of their lives, they knew little of normal life. Éponine had a few select memories of her childhood before being taken to the school and Florence had virtually none.

The first several days were rough. Except for Florence and Éponine, the ten girls disbanded pretty much completely. Left to their own devices, Éponine and her best friend made the trek down the mountain and into the heart of the city. The first day, they tried their best to look as normal as possible, but they passed as nobles, at best. Most people avoided them out of fear or came up and kissed their hands; Éponine, uncomfortable with the way she was being treated, tried her best to explain she wasn't what they thought, but the people would not listen. Florence, on the other hand, was thrilled with the attention.

After finding a room in an inn and staying there for the first night, the girls took a walk around the city the next day. The inn they had lodged at was very near to the castle, and having never seen one before, they took the opportunity to dash around the edge of the grounds. If only Madame could see them now!

They darted around the trees on the edge, careful not to be caught by a patrolling guard. Éponine had never felt so free; they laughed, much too loudly, until Florence stopped on a dime. Éponine nearly ran full on into her, but she managed to catch herself.

"God, Florence! What is it?" She flung some hair out of her eyes.

Florence hunkered down onto her knees, pulling Éponine down with her, and pointed. "Look, Éponine."

"What is it?"

"I think.. the King and Queen."

Éponine peered over her friend's shoulder to get a better look. Indeed, there was a small family on the end of a gravel pathway. Each adult was holding one small boy and the woman was standing a little farther behind. Éponine had only heard of the King Enjolras and Queen Cosette before, but never had she gone for a parade or party. She'd never even seen a likeness of them.

The Queen looked to be exceptionally fair, but Éponine could hardly expect less.

The King, on the other hand, was more dashing that she could have ever dreamed. He fit every bit of criteria for kingliness that he could.

After a moment of silence, she nodded. "Yes, it must be."

"They look very happy, do they not?" Florence beamed.

Éponine nodded again. "Why would they not be? They're.. royals."

.::.

Happy They Must Be

Enjolras slammed his chamber door shut. On the other side of the door, leading into his wife's chambers, he could hear her sobbing.

Another argument; this time, a heated one in which he was afraid he would do something he would regret. But there was no possible way he could have done anything to harm her. So, he left. Which only ended up in reducing her into a puddle of tears and self-pity. For some time, things between them had been on the rocks. Enjolras could never put a place on when it all went sour; maybe, _most likely_, after the twins were born.

Enjolras was tired. He wanted a long rest, a long drink. He didn't at all want to think about the country or his wife or his children or the problem he was facing at hand; he wanted to relax. Shrugging off his light grey jacket, Enjolras rubbed his face and slipped off his black boots and switched them for the brown ones. Cracking his neck, he then walked to the door and threw it open.

He stalked down the hall, brooding and in need of a stiff drink. The guards on either side of the end of the hallway stood straighter as he walked past, but he chose not to acknowledge them. Not like he usually did..

After many turns and staircases, Enjolras ended up bursting into the palace kitchens. The cook flung around, gasping loudly. She colored immediately and brought the only two other people in the room – a footman and a kitchen maid – behind her.

"My Lord," she cried. "We – we were not expecting you."

The King sighed. "No. I apologize if I am intruding.. Uh.. I was just going to go through.." He pointed to the door which led through into the Great Hall. "I'm not sure why I came through here."

"No, my Lord. We are honored."

"Well, I will let you.. continue." He bowed his head slightly and then continued on quickly, slightly embarrassed. Keeping his fingers crossed, he hoped and prayed that some of his Knights would be present. He needed a pick-me-up.

Upon entering the brightly lit room, he was met with loud cheers from the only table, positioned in the center. He breathed a sigh of relief. They were all present; thank the Lord.

"My Lord, my Lord, come and eat!" cried the loudest, Sir Grantaire. He raised his always-full wine-cup and smiled brightly.

For once, Enjolras greeted Grantaire with a smile as well. As much as he admired every one of his knights, Grantaire held a special place in his heart. A place of annoyance. The young man played Devil's Advocate to everything Enjolras wished to set in place. While it may benefit him in the long-run, at the time, Enjolras wanted to shove a spear up his nose.

He sat down on one of the benches and was handed a cup full of wine, which he downed, very quickly. There were more cheers. He took another sip of his new drink and coughed, raising his already wobbling hand. (The King had never been much for drinking or keeping sober for that long once he began.)

The room quieted. "My people," he slurred. "Tonight we celebrate something magnificent! My lovely wife is with child." He slowly stood up amidst the cheers and congratulations. Enjolras quieted them with another raise of his hand. "Yes, 'tis marvelous." He took another swig, his rage deepening. Slowly, wobbling, drunk off his ass _already_, Enjolras lifted a leg and stepped over the bench so he could pace.

"My _wife _is _pregnant_." The room remained silent. Across the table, several of the knights stood slowly; something was wrong, they could feel it. Courfeyrac dismissed the other Lords and Ladies in attendance. Enjolras did not notice.

"Yes, my Lord, congratulations. Please, do sit." Enjolras' close friend, Combeferre, came close to him and held his shoulders, attempting to pull him back to the table.

Enjolras wrenched himself free and scowled like a child. "The Queen is pregnant and I can promise you all, it is _not _mine." He hiccuped. Several men took in a deep breath.

One man in particular chose that time to make, what he hoped would be, a smooth get-a-away. With a beyond drunk king, he didn't think he would be caught, but Enjolras, sharper than he looked when drunk, caught him out of the corner of his eye.

"And I blame him." He pointed to the man he deemed responsible: Knight Marius Pontmercy.

.::.

The Queen's Dilemma

Queen Cosette had composed herself awhile after her husband left. Now, she sat, waiting, in her bedchamber, powdering her blotchy red face. She should have known she would have been caught sooner or later.

In truth, she had never really _loved _her husband. Of course, she admired him and found him to be quite handsome, but love was a strong word. And, then, there was the perk of becoming queen. It fell into place quickly and she was happy. She had wonderful children, both of which she loved very much, and a marriage that was.. suitable.

But then _he _came along.

When Enjolras commissioned his knights, Cosette was indifferent. They were mainly some of his closest friends and school-chums, but one of them was his friend from childhood: Marius. When he joined the group, that was when she became interested.

The two grew close immediately and almost with innocence, but Cosette knew somewhere in her heart, that her marriage with Enjolras would no longer bring her the great happiness she wanted. So the two began to meet in secret during Enjolras' debriefing to the court. It escalated quickly and grew more and more intimate and the all of a sudden, she was pregnant.

Cosette knew then that she had _no _way out. Enjolras and she had not.. Well, it just wasn't possible. Not with the arguments they were having and how they now slept in separate beds.

It just couldn't happen.

Cosette had put herself into an awful predicament and she had no idea what the outcome would be. He could have her and Marius _beheaded_ for all she knew!

But she knew, deep in her heart, that he would never do something like that to her.

At least, she certainly hoped..

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**Remember to review! **

**Love, Jess**


	3. A Rowdy Business

**Trigger Warnings: character death.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. K, thanks.**

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A Rowdy Business

Éponine and Florence went without any money for three more days until Florence finally landed a job in serving at the local pub. Unlike Éponine, who would have been grateful for the job, Florence was slightly embarrassed. She thought it to be below what she _could_ be doing..

Éponine loved Florence dearly; they'd grown up together, for Pete's sake. But there were often times when Éponine could plainly see just how much the school had influenced her friend into thinking she was above everyone else. It did not suit her well.

On the second day of her job, Florence was having a difficult time handling the large crowds. It was only her and another woman, who obviously was beyond intoxicated, scheduled to be working; the second woman couldn't help too much. She could hardly see her feet, much less hold a tray full with cups.

Already overwhelmed within the first half-hour of working, she sought Éponine out around the back of the pub. Éponine reluctantly agreed to help.

.::.

A Knight. Or Two. Or Eight.

The day after Enjolras found out about his Queen's doings, and the same day Éponine was resigned to help Florence out at the pub, Enjolras' knights got a brilliant idea.

Really, though, it was Grantaire's idea; and he was drunk, but he was _always _drunk.

His idea was this: "Let us go Mary's," he said, clearing his throat. "I am far too stressed to even consider anything other than a drink and a woman." His idea was met with great approval and cheer.

So, half already drunk, the other half _nearly _drunk, the knights stumbled into Mary's and onto Éponine's too-full (metaphorical) plate. She was bustling around the counter, really trying not to cry, when Courfeyrac saw her from the corner of his eye slip on a puddle. He jumped to attention, and being one of the mostly sober ones, managed to catch her before she fell to the ground.

Éponine was breathless and embarrassed. She closed her eyes, relaxed slightly, and listened to him chuckle. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and he helped her to stand. Éponine laughed then, out of embarrassment. Many of the knights were staring at her with amused looks on their faces and it only heightened her feeling of self-consciousness.

"Well," Courfeyrac said, his ego inflated. "It appears that I have saved you, my Lady."

Éponine shook her head, a smile etched onto her face. "Thank you, sir, but I am no Lady."

Courfeyrac pouted. "That cannot be true! A woman of your fine.. ah.. looks must be a woman of standing?"

Éponine cocked her head to the side, the smile now gone. "What are you after?" she asked, straightforward, like usual.

A knight snickered in the background. Courfeyrac stood straighter, pulling his jacket tighter. "Nothing, ma'am. I have no ill intentions, if that is what you think."

Éponine raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "I find it hard to believe that a man of your.. position would come in here and catch me, imply that I am a Lady, and complement my looks if he did not want something." She glanced at the King's crest on his jacket; Courfeyrac blushed.

"Really, ma'am, I did not mean to cause you any-"

Bahorel, the toughest of the bunch, having seen enough, came forward and clasped his friend's shoulder. "Leave the poor lass alone, Courf!" He laughed and then looked at Éponine. "I apologize, miss, if he's caused too much harm."

"He's caused no such thing." Éponine smiled, bowing her head slightly. She pointed to a corner booth. "You lot can take that over there."

Bahorel grinned. "Thank you..?"

"Éponine," she filled in.

"Yes. Thank you, Éponine."

Awhile after Florence had served the knights and Éponine had torn off her apron after she was relieved of her duties, the two girls finally sat down for the first time since they'd started that evening. Éponine laughed as she exhaled; Florence wiped her forehead.

"I now understand hard work, Éponine," she breathed.

Éponine rolled her eyes and slid off of her stool, undoing her braid. "Florence, you will never understand hard work."

"Oh, don't be such a spoil-sport, Éppy! I'm only saying, at school, we never did stuff like this; now, it's just.. going to take some time to get adjusted."

Éponine chose not to respond. "Am I done here?"

Florence sighed and hopped off her stool, nodding. "Yes. Thank you for your help."

"Of course." Éponine lightly punched Florence's arm. "Anything for family."

Florence instantly brightened. "I will see you later on. I'll just wait until those men leave, then I'll come home."

"I could wait with you," Éponine offered. "It would be safer for us both to go home-"

Florence put up her hand. "No, Éponine, you go on. You've helped me out enough already. I can manage."

Éponine smiled softly. "If you say so." She grabbed her sack and headed out the door with a wave to her friend.

Florence and Éponine were hard-pressed to find a home they could call their own, so they decided to rent out an elderly woman's back room. They, of course, could not pay her upfront for the first several nights, but the woman – Missus Cleary – was so thrilled to have some companionship that she let it slide. The two weren't even sure if they ever actually _had _to pay, which would be fine by them.

Éponine left Mary's with the intent of going straight home. The night had fallen quickly and it was chilly, like always. Éponine wrapped her shawl a little tighter and bent her head to keep from getting hit in the face with the wind. Surprisingly enough, people were milling about all around her. Different sorts of people than the ones from during the day, though, she noted. These people were certainly more eccentric. They sold the oddest little trinkets and hardly wore any clothing. Éponine was intrigued, but slightly scared. She managed to avoid anyone trying to peddle something off of her that night, coming up to the little cottage surrounded by shrubbery and trees and flowers.

She knocked twice and went in, instantly smelling cinnamon and spice. It felt warm. Éponine pulled off her shawl and Missus Cleary hobbled into the room on her old feet and smiled warmly.

"Darling! I was getting worried!" She clasped her hands together. "Let me get you a cup of tea."

Éponine chuckled and sat down, glancing out the window, slightly worried that maybe she shouldn't have left Florence alone. "Thank you, kindly."

.::.

Florence the Brave but Not So Successful

It happened quick.

Florence watched as all of the painfully attractive knights left the pub in shambles, all save one. She locked up Mary's quickly and rushed out, passing all of the thoroughly terrifying people in a blur.

But she wasn't fast enough and she wasn't strong enough and she wasn't loud enough.

She was overtaken when she made the turn that would have brought her within eyesight of the cottage she now called home. A hand grabbed at her neck and pulled her back. Florence struggled immediately. Though she gasped for air, Florence fought: she scratched her nails and clamped her teeth down on whatever skin she could find, but moments later there was a sharp pain in her back. She gasped and fell to her hands and knees. There was another sharp pain in her neck and then it all ended.

Florence was left alone, on her back, in a puddle of her own blood, her eyes focusing in and out on the stars above her. She smiled, though.

Dying underneath the stars seemed awful romantic when she thought about it.

.::.

A Discovery Made

Éponine should have been the one to find Florence that next morning, but she was not. Instead, she was tending to the gardens in Missus Cleary's garden that afternoon, her first time out that day, when a pair of palace guards walked up the dirt road. Missus Cleary – now insisting she be called Emma – bustled out of her home and gently shoved Éponine with her foot.

"Did Florence come home last night?" she asked as Éponine stood up.

The other girl shrugged. "I'm not sure. I.. I went to bed before I heard anything.." She stared at the guards, worried.

They stood and looks at one another. "Are you Éponine Thenardier?" one asked.

Éponine nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Do you know Florence De la Brousse?"

Éponine was officially nervous. "Yes. Is everything alright?"

The other guard spoke up. "Not exactly. You see, we found her-"

"Found her?!" Éponine clutched Emma's hand for support; the old woman sucked in a large breath. Florence was all Éponine had left!

"She's dead, miss. She was stabbed in the back and in the neck." Éponine gasped and put her hand to her mouth, shaking her head. The tears instantly filled her eyes. "We would.. like for you to come to the palace. This was not on accident."

"Just give the poor girl a moment, please!" Emma said, pulling Éponine away. The guards nodded.

"Five minutes."

Emma brought Éponine to the side of the garden and rubbed her arms steadily. "Now, listen here," she began. "You're going to the palace and you can't look like a sobby baby in there. Can you hold it in for a couple of hours? Then, you can come home and if you want to break a window, break a window."

Éponine held in her tears and cries for a moments. She rubbed her nose. "I'll try."

"Good." Emma looked at the guards. "Now, go."

Éponine held her shoulders high and Emma wiped a stray tear off her cheek. She faced the guards. "Take me to the palace."

.::.

Add Another to the List

The fifth murder that week. Each one was a woman, stabbed twice, once in the back, once in the neck. Enjolras was up to his neck in stress from his wife already; he couldn't deal with _another _case.

He was told that his advisers had found a close relative of the woman and they were bringing her in. They thought that she could hold some important clues, but Enjolras highly doubted that. Every time a relative or friend was tugged in from the streets, all they did was cry all over his throne room.

He lounged in his throne, a hand beneath his chin, his eyes dropped. The night before had been hell. He still hadn't full recovered from his hangover from two nights previously and Cosette was desperately trying to get back onto his good side.

As of now, Enjolras had no good side.

He was angry with everyone and everything and _nothing _could cheer him up.

She'd hurt him deeply.

The doors opened and a young woman, tan with soft, brown hair, was ushered in. He narrowed his eyes. Her eyes were red from crying and when she spoke her name ("Éponine, my Lord."), her voice sounded raw. He silently commended her for reigning in her sadness. He sat a little straighter and cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, I am terribly sorry for your loss." He saw her take a deep breath and steady herself. "Now, if you could please tell me when you saw your friend.. ah.." Not knowing the name of the victim, Enjolras turned around and looked at his man, Fred. Fred opened his mouth to supply the name, but was cut off.

"Florence, my Lord." The woman's tone was angry. Enjolras stared at her with wide eyes.

"I apologize. Florence. When did you see her last?"

"Last night. I left Mary's and went home; she stayed behind to lock up. I believe all of your knights were present. I then went to bed after some tea and that is all I know."

Enjolras sighed. "I'm afraid that-"

"Your Grace, it is obvious this is not the most important matter at hand. If that is true, may I please leave? This is still too.. fresh for me to consider." Éponine looked to the floor; he saw a tear splatter onto the marble.

Enjolras, though angry, had a compassionate heart. "Yes, of course. I _am _sorry. We will.. be in touch."

Éponine bowed and then spun on her heel. "Don't bother," she muttered. "I'll find the man myself."

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**A/N: A little mystery thrown in there for the sake of extra intrigue. Don't forget to review! **


	4. A Wailing Child

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, lovelies!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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A Wailing Child

Enjolras, several days after the predicament with the murdered woman, made a choice about what to do with his wife. Early on a Thursday morning, he gathered his sons together in the Great Hall. Jean-Claude and Maximus had not been allowed to see their mother since Enjolras had figure out his wife's secret. It wasn't that Enjolras wanted to limit his sons from seeing their mother, but he had to do what was right.

They would have to get used to it, after all.

Enjolras placed his sons on either side of his throne, each held by one of the three nurses. He stood before it, tapping his foot impatiently. All of the knights and all of the nobles who lived somewhere without the extensive castle were gathered in the Great Hall; as was really everyone who had anything to do with the castle. Enjolras' heart was beating quickly. He'd thought long and hard about what he would going to do with Cosette, and what to do with Marius, and the baby. He'd consulted with Combeferre and Courfeyrac and they were all on the same page.

When the room became too silent and the boys began to notice, Maximus wailed slightly and flailed his arms, searching for something to grab onto. Enjolras sighed and swallowed. It was time.

"Show them in." He turned on his heel and sat down on his chair.

Two guards at the end of the hall turned and opened the wide, wooden doors. Cosette stood behind the doors, dressed in her best, her head held high. Marius was sheepish, also dressed impeccably. Enjolras' face hardened at the sight of him. The two were brought before the dais and Enjolras tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne, the other hand over his mouth. He frowned.

"Read it," he said, motioning to the man beside him.

The man beside him shuffled forward and unfurled a scroll. "By order of King Benjamin Enjolras, under the knowledge that Queen Cosette Enjolras and Sir Marius Pontmercy have consorted with one another behind the King's back, the previous mentioned parties have hereby been from the country of France on penalty of death if they dare to return." There was a gasp throughout the crowd; Enjolras lifted his hand and they fell silent. "This decree goes into effect at sunrise tomorrow." The man snapped the scroll shut and stood back.

Enjolras stood, finally, and nodded slowly. "Have you anything to say for yourselves?"

Cosette glanced at Marius. Enjolras wanted to throw up.

"No, Your Highness," was all Marius could squeak..

"And you?" Enjolras addressed his wife.

"I do not regret anything, my Lord."

Enjolras flared his nostrils in anger. "Leave us," he said after a moment. The word echoed through the hall; Cosette lowered her head and flinched. Slowly, hesitantly, everyone filed out of the room. When at last the doors had shut and the silence in the room was choking him, he stepped off of the dais.

Enjolras clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace in front of his wife. She would not be his wife for very much longer. Their marriage would be officially annulled once sunrise came in the morning.

Enjolras stopped for a moment and looked out one of the large picture windows at lined the side of the hall. "I didn't want to be King," he said. "That was never my intention. My intention was to create a free state. That was not what the people wanted, I suppose." He hung his head and then turned on his heel. Enjolras resumed pacing. He turned to face her. "Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do not play dumb with me, Cosette!" he yelled. "_Why would you do this to me?_" He grabbed her shoulders roughly; Cosette's hair fell in front of her face. He let her go after a moment.

Cosette did not have a sufficient excuse; in fact, she gave no excuse. She just sunk her chin to her chest and put a hand to her mouth to stop from crying aloud.

"Do you have _nothing _to say to me?" Enjolras lowered his voice to a whisper. He was afraid that if he were to yell, his voice would crack, betraying his emotions. She shook her head. "I loved you..."

"I know.."

"I thought that we... would.." Enjolras ran a hand through his hair and turned away. "I thought wrong."

"Yes, we both did."

Enjolras stood very straight. He was not going to get anything out of Cosette; to him, she was dead. "I have no further use for this-"

"What about the children?" Her question caught him off-guard.

Enjolras frowned. "What about them?" He scoffed. "You lost the right to call them your children when you made the decision to betray me!"

Cosette raised her head and her face crumbled. Enjolras looked away; her tears had always been his weakness. He hated to see her hurting. "Enjolras, please, you can't take them from me," she pleaded. "They're my sons; they are my-"

Enjolras shook his head and put a hand up. "I can and I will! Cosette, you have only done this to yourself!"

"But, Enjolras, please-"

"Enough, woman!" He stalked past her, toward the door. "I hope that you enjoy Pontmercy. I hope he's worth this.."

.::.

And Her Friend

Éponine did not hear from anyone from the castle after she left. She had been told by a man that she would get some sort of payment for offering any information that she may have. While she had received that payment, no word had come to her about the "investigation."

She had expected as much, though. A few days after the initial meeting with the King, word had been sent out that Queen Cosette had been banished from the realm. France was in shock. No word to why had been released, but rumors were spreading. Already people were talking about the next queen.

Éponine just wanted justice for Florence. She dutifully took over Florence's position at the tavern; the owners gave it to her when she came in the day after the murder to let them know what had happened. The work was nice; it provided a much needed distraction.

A week or so after the murder and four days after the queen had been banished, Éponine began working her late shift for the night. She'd made friends with the regulars who came in and, steadily, she worked her way into the system. Early into the shift, two of the knights from the castle made their way in, greeting people as they came. They stopped at the bar and one of them laughed loudly.

"Éponine!" Éponine turned around and looked around. The man shook his head and pointed to her. "You! Éponine, right?"

"Yes.. How – how do I-"

"Bahorel! We met the night your friend, well.."

Éponine remembered. "Oh, yes! I remember you." She smiled with ease. He was a nice man, funny, with an oddly shaped nose. As if it'd been broken many times.

"Allow me to introduce my friend, Sir Courfeyrac." Bahorel leaned far across the counter, cupping a hand around his mouth. "You don't have to address us as 'sir,' though." He winked and pulled back.

Courfeyrac and Bahorel settled themselves on stools in front of the bar; Éponine was glad for the company. Maybe she could even pull a few answers out of them. "What would you both like?"

"The strongest stuff you've got." Courfeyrac laughed and Bahorel nodded in agreement; Éponine severed them and then leaned on the counter.

"Rough day?"

"Rough week!"

"How so?"

"Well, obviously," Courf took a drink. "You know that the queen – excuse me, the Lady Cosette – is no longer with us-"

"You make it sound like she's died, Courfeyrac!" Bahorel shook his head.

Courfeyrac shrugged. "She might as well have! The King has been acting like she has, anyway. All her portraits, gone." He swiped his hand through the air, like a cut had been made.

"_And _everything she ever owned is gone, too," Bahorel added.

"It's ridiculous!"

Éponine raised her eyebrows. "Is that so? That's too bad. I liked her.."

Bahorel sighed and took a long drink. "We all did."

"Why, pray tell, did this happen?"

Courfeyrac glanced at his friend and then shook his head. "No, no, we can't say."

Éponine nodded. "Yes, I understand."

Bahorel leaned back and crackled his knuckles. "We certainly couldn't say that it was because one of the other knights made a poor choice.."

Courfeyrac nodded. "Definitely not because she.." He cleared his throat. "Cheated."

Éponine smirked. "Certainly not."

.::.

Sleep

While Courfeyrac and Bahorel were away _not _telling Éponine about Cosette's fate, Enjolras was trying to get some much needed rest, but Combeferre would not relent. Already, he was thinking about moving forward with the search for a new queen.

"My Lord, you cannot lay idly by! We need to think about the future!"

Enjolras, who was on his back on his bed, groaned. "Leave me alone!"

"Please, Your Highness, just listen."

Enjolras sat up and threw his hands in the air. "Go ahead. Go! Tell me your plan."

"Thank you," Combeferre sighed and sat on a chair before his friend. "Enjolras, you cannot rule alone."

"And why not? Plenty of men have done it before me."

"If you wait any longer, you are only going to grow more bitter. You are a just leader, but you will not be if you grow angry. Finding a new queen may help to ease the load."

"It is too soon, 'Ferre. I thank you for trying, but not now.. Not when she's just left."

Combeferre stood and nodded. "As your friend, and your adviser, and your knight, I will give you a month. When the month is over, we start our search."

.::.

Cosette and Marius

After leaving France and moving to Austria, the pair had found a home in the mountains. It was large and spacious and ornately decorated. For awhile the pair was happy: Cosette was pregnant and Marius had found a steady job.

Two months after they moved, Cosette awoke one morning to an empty bed.

She wandered into the halls and quickly realized, she was alone.

Marius had left her.

She was alone in a new country with no one for support.

She crumpled to the ground in a mess of tears.

What had she done to herself?


End file.
